


The Four Trials of Solomon

by ead13



Category: Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, leave my precious Swaine alone you stupid blue midget, non-conventional solutions, non-mage in a mage's world, tackling issues of self-worth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ead13/pseuds/ead13
Summary: Swaine will do anything to shut that obnoxious blue midget up, even if it means taking on the trials undergone by future sages. Of course, these are also the trials he was supposed to take 15 years ago until he was found to be "inadequate". The trials his younger brother overcame to surpass him. The trials his friends already conquered without him. There's more than pride at stake.





	1. Prologue: An Unwanted Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swaine gets an unpleasant detour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be another sketch for my collection "Filling in the Blanks"; however, it grew and grew as I wrote down every part of the idea and ultimately it took on a life of its own. It isn't a sketch, it's a full blown mural. Or something like that. It started with my musing of what would happen if Swaine ever met Master Solomon (mostly whether Swaine would be able to resist the urge to murder him). Then you remember that Solomon was SUPPOSED to be his teacher originally. And how did it feel for Swaine to follow Oliver to the place where magic-users trained to be Sage, a place he had been expected to go but was out of his reach? Instead of skimping, I just decided to make this it's own short story.

"So, where to next? I heard some rumors that we might find Kublai on the western coast of the Summerlands, near Skull Mountain. Sounds appropriate for the King of the Sky Pirates," Swaine commented as the quartet of adventurers traipsed north through the deserts near Al Mamoon.

"You would know where to find the King of the Sky Pirates!" Esther rolled her eyes and shook her head, ponytail swinging back and forth.

He made a sour face, but before he could retort, Oliver interjected, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Actually, I remember Marcassin saying something about a tournament at the Temple of Trials. I thought it might be a good place to get some training in before we try to face someone like Kublai. Besides, maybe we can stay there overnight."

"The Temple of Trials?" older man inquired, scratching his head.

"Oh, come on Swaine, surely you know the Temple of Trials?"

"Aye, mun, your own flippin' brother went there to complete his training as a Great Sage," Drippy informed him.

Swaine scowled as soon as the words 'Great Sage' crossed Drippy's lips. "Well sorry if I'm not familiar with all the magical places magical people go to work on their magical skills!" He crossed his arms defensively.

Despite traveling with a powerful wizard intent on defeating another powerful wizard, he did not appreciate being reminded of his own inability to use magic, especially in reference to the rest of his family. In general, having magical abilities was actually quite uncommon and shouldn't have caused him any insecurity; however, Swaine couldn't think of a single member of his family stretching back for generations upon generations that did NOT have such a talent. That became a problem for him, because once everyone in the family had magic, they began to make it a requirement to hold certain positions. For example, the EMPEROR OF HAMELIN. As if having magical abilities was a necessary to rule a kingdom successfully… No matter what he thought, his birthright, the throne of his homeland, was passed on to his supremely gifted younger brother while he had been told to "find a new role in the empire". No, he and magic were not on good terms.

"We went there for training before you joined us, Swaine. I guess that means you haven't seen it yet! Now we definitely should go!" Oliver continued, breaking up his friend's dark thoughts.

Still, he grunted in annoyance. "Right. You, Esther and Drippy can go and have fun with that. I'll find a good place for a nap."

"But Swaine, all you need for the tournament is a familiar. You can help us!" For whatever reason, Oliver seemed quite insistent that his companion join them in their endeavors. He even stopped walking and turned to look at him intently. Damn. It was always so hard to say 'no' to him…

Esther was less kind in expressing her opinion. She folded her arms and tilted her head in that bossy way of hers. "Don't be a party-pooper Swaine! You have to pull your weight a little while we're there!" Just like that, his willingness to help vanished.

"I pull my weight when it matters, like finding Kublai and getting that map back. This is just fun and games for you, so I don't owe you anything!" he snapped.

"No help, no dinner…" Drippy replied mockingly.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've gone hungry…" came the venomous response.

Oliver sighed. Even though they had been traveling together for quite a while now, Esther and Drippy still did not understand how very little good it did to push Swaine's buttons. Or did they secretly enjoy making him miserable? Either way, he certainly wouldn't help now that they made him defensive, and Oliver couldn't blame him. He remembered Gascon's shortcomings in magic and could completely understand why Swaine would want nothing to do with the place where his own brother trained to take the job he was deemed incapable of filling.

"Forget it, Swaine can guard our stuff and take care of dinner for us while we fight."

"But Oliver…" The wizard looked at the protesting blonde and shook his head. She sighed and went silent.

"Come on guys, let's go. We should be able to make it by sundown." Oliver shifted the bag on his shoulders and began heading in the direction of the Temple. The others silently followed single-file, studying the ground to avoid all eye-contact.


	2. Challenge Accepted?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Swaine ends up agreeing to something he may regret later thanks to his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, the moment we've all been waiting for: Swaine vs. Solomon... When it comes to excitability, we all know who is going to lose this battle! All angry dialogue aside, in my mind, having Swaine go through the trials seemed entirely possible. When playing through the game, I noticed right away that there was nothing especially wizard-like about them. That made me believe this scenario could have actually happened. Let's go Swaine, you show that jerk who's awesome!

Upon arriving at the ancient structure, every one of the companions was shocked. Gremalkins. Tomtes. Humans from every corner of the realm. There was no location known to man that was not represented in the crowds gathered in the Temple's atrium. Young and old chattered excitedly amongst themselves, clutching luggage they had brought for their stay during the tournaments. It was hard not to stare in curiosity. Oliver, Esther, and Drippy were amazed because the last time they had visited, there had been only two in the entire complex; the halls had practically echoed with each footstep. Swaine was amazed that so many non-magic users would crowd a place typically reserved for the gifted elite. Maybe Oliver had a point about simply needing a familiar…

The group pushed through the crowd of participants until they reached the back of the atrium. They found themselves standing before the tiny, blue-hued leader of the Temple, Master Solomon. Despite his diminutive stature, he somehow still managed to peer down at them from his throne. "If it isn't the Pure Hearted One and Rashaad's daughter. I might have known you would come for the tournament. Maybe you've actually become strong by now! Don't expect me to give you any more freebies though." Finally, noticing Swaine for the first time, he squinted. "Who's the oaf over there with you?"

Swaine's eyes narrowed and he inhaled sharply. "Excuse me?"

"Oaf. Imbecile. Fool. Clod. Chump…" Master Solomon rattled off, completely oblivious to the flushing of the man's face.

"As if a puny twerp like you should throw names around, you arrogant…" Swaine was interrupted by a sharp smack from Esther.

"Swaine! That is no way to talk to Master Solomon! He is a great wizard and he taught Marcassin as well as Oliver and I. Apologize!"

He rubbed his face sullenly. "For what? Defending myself? Just because he's high and mighty doesn't mean he gets to…"

"Is that oaf still talking? He yaps like a dog; quite annoying," Solomon frowned.

His fists clenched in anger. "I don't have to deal with this brat! I don't know how Marcassin put up with this, but I sure won't!" He gave a swift 180 and almost started to walk away when Solomon responded, suddenly interested.

"Marcassin, you say? There was a bright one. Shy little mouse though. Made Rashad look like a party animal… " Swaine froze in his tracks, but did not turn around.

"Yeah, that sounds accurate. He would never raise his voice to anyone. Good thing he's the one that came here…"

Solomon was quick to put two and two together. Suddenly, he jumped up, mouth agape, and pointed a finger at him. "You're Marcassin's…"

"Don't finish that sentence!" he boomed, whipping around to reveal blazing eyes. "It's none of your business!"

Solomon relaxed, despite how confrontational the man before him appeared. "Jeez, don't have a hissy fit. I was just going to say that you are the one I was supposed to train. Waited for you to arrive for years. Quite a surprise when Marcassin showed up instead, but I guess I see why. Not exactly the princely type. You can't even control your temper, much less the most basic of magic!"

The asshole. The breath was sucked from his chest, and he could feel his face burn right to the tips of his ears. Someone had finally put it into words, and it just had to be in front of people. Even Esther and Drippy would never do something that serious. He could feel the uncomfortable tension from his friends as they averted their eyes.

As a general rule, Swaine reacted to embarrassment and insecurity with anger. The level of embarrassment was directly proportional to the anger produced. Needless to say, he fairly exploded. The only thing restraining him was his keen awareness of his surroundings; to scream a string of curses at the midget before him would draw the attention of everyone else in the room. "Is that some kind of a problem?!" he finally managed to hiss, grinding his teeth.

Master Solomon shrugged, completely unfazed. "Not for me. Just for you. I see they've stuck to their decision about keeping the Great Sage as emperor of Hamelin. Even if you were coming here undercover, you would have at least bathed in the last six months…"

His entire body shook. Never before had he felt such an intense desire to strangle anyone. Unfortunately, murder was not an option. With that taken away, he found himself dangerously close to the other alternative: losing to the tears of shame building inside. In that moment suspended in limbo, floating between two horrible options, he was rescued.

"Master Solomon! Don't talk about my friend that way!" It was Oliver, and he looked uncharacteristically angry. He stepped forward between Swaine and Solomon. "He is strong and smart and would definitely be a great prince with or without magic!"

Even Esther seemed upset. "He IS annoying, Master, but that is going too far!"

Oliver's staunch defense and Esther's comments amused the leader of the temple. "He couldn't even pass the Trials if he had you helping him!"

"He could too! And we'll prove it right now! You'll see he has what it takes!"

It was funny. He was simultaneously a bystander and the focus of the fight taking place in front of him. Part of him was mad, kicking himself really, that he couldn't even stand up for himself but needed two kids to fight his battles. Another part of him was grateful that he didn't have to say anything more, lest he do something he regret. Either way, it sounded like he was about to get involved in something unpleasant.

"I was going to start the tournament, but this amuses me much more at the current moment. Fine, I will open the Trials. This should be good for a laugh."

"Good! Laugh while you can, because when he finishes, you will have to apologize to him for what you said!" Oliver declared.

This was getting real, and more than a little overboard. "Hold on. Are you…serious? I thought only people with magic could finish the trials!" Swaine interjected, looking quite concerned.

"What's the matter, scared already?" Solomon taunted.

"N-no! I just thought…"

Esther stepped in. "It is true that Sages must undergo the Trials to advance. However, I went through the trials with Oliver, and I know that it is possible to complete them without using a single spell. Harder, yes, but possible."

"Right!" Oliver agreed, turning back to them. "You just have to show friendship, intelligence, and strength, and you have all of those things!"

He remained silent for a moment, weighing his options. To refuse would mean more mocking from that loathsome runt, and Oliver's disappointment. To agree meant the possibility of utter failure and looking like a fool. So, really…if he tried he at least had a tiny percent chance of saving his pride versus the 100% impossibility if he declined. Shit.

"Hmmph, let's see if these Trials are as hard as you say they are," he finally replied, folding his arms.

"Excellent. Now, which Trial should we do first?" Solomon closed his eyes in contemplation. Then, he opened them with a wicked grin. "Oh, I know. We should put you through the friendship trial. The grump should do well with that..."

"Good, the perfect warmup. He could do that with his eyes closed!" Though Oliver was completely confident, Swaine noticed Esther and Drippy looking considerably more skeptical. It made him want to wipe that look off their faces.

"Well, Oliver, I suppose it's you and me. Let's get this over with." He cracked his knuckles and began walking in the direction of the door on his left.

"Not so fast, oaf brother of Marcassin!" Solomon declared, holding up his hand. "Oliver already passed the trials. It would not be fair to have him lead you through them."

"But you said…"

"The only one who has not done the Trial of Friendship already is the fairy. Therefore, he shall be your partner in the Trial." The little blue sage looked way too smug as he spoke, knowing just how annoying Drippy could be to someone like him. Psychological torture was fun, and this would be exquisite. He could already see the disbelief and horror on the man's face. Drippy, too, looked completely shocked.

"Oi! But, Youer Excellency, fairies don't…"

"Aww, be a good sport. It will be fun."

Swaine cast the master a death glare, but stood stiffly without flinching. "Fine. Doesn't matter to me. Let's go already." Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Drippy, stashed him under one arm, and strode purposefully towards the grandiose double doors to his left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trial of Friendship...with Drippy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no idea how this scenario came to me, but it was one of the first things I put together regarding the trials themselves. Just walking across would be too easy... If this is physically impossible, I don't want to hear about it XD I'm not sure if I got too out-of-character this time, as I don't really recall Swaine and Drippy EVER being overtly nice to each other, so please let me know what you think.

"So, we just have to make it to the other side at about the same time…" Swaine contemplated, squinting and studying the room thoughtfully while scratching his stubble. It was dark, lit only by a handful of floating torches. There were two paths of fragile tile that never intersected as they hovered over a pitch black void, one per person/fairy. The tiles would gradually disappear as time went by, and the paths were not complete. In order to get to the end, your friend would have to activate a switch on their side to extend your own path. Taking too long meant a plummet into the abyss below. Cheery…

"Ya know, us fairies…we don't move so fast with our little stubby legs…" Drippy admitted, looking a bit worried.

"Not what I want to hear right now, Drippy!"

"I know, I know, but…if I don't make it… Well, see, I wouldn't just botch the test just to…"

Swaine looked exasperated. "Can it, Drippy. Your motor-mouth gets on my every last nerve, but I know you wouldn't try and humiliate me in front of Solomon. Surely we can agree that HE is the most annoying one of all and we need to make him eat his words."

Drippy nodded wisely. "Well put. An oaf ya may be, but better an oaf than a belittling brat."

He closed his eyes. "I'll just pretend that was a gracious response. Now, are you ready?"

"I s'pose." The fairy began jogging in place to warm up, lantern swinging wildly. The man just rolled his eyes while taking his position before the red path. He watched as Drippy scooted over to the blue, now quite gung-ho and punching the air in anticipation. What an absolute nutter… As he stood, he made the mistake of looking down into the bottomless depths and gulped. Balance…. balance…he should be good at that, right? He just couldn't go too fast…or too slow…ugh.

"Ready when you are, Pork Prince!"

He forgot to be nervous upon hearing those words. "Will you knock it off and get serious?! Geez!" Stretching his arms behind his back, he assumed a ready position. "On my signal. Ready, and…go!"

At first it was not hard, as the path was wider. His strides were long and measured, and he didn't have to think too hard at all. Then the path began to narrow. All his attention was devoted to carefully putting one foot before the other. Risking a look up, he noticed that he was almost to his first switch. So far, so good. He triggered it, taking a moment to pause and see how Drippy was doing.

"Son of a…rrrgh!" he face-palmed, censoring himself out of habit. He had lengthened his partner's path, but his partner was nowhere near it! To be fair, Drippy was trying; however, he wasn't kidding about the stubby legs… Feeling a wave of pressure, Swaine looked behind him and saw the tiles disappearing one by one. He had time, but by his calculations, it would not be enough… Damn that Solomon, he must have known it would happen like this!

Standing there worrying wasn't going to help anything though. This trial was about trusting your partner and…screw that. While he would admit that having others help you was a great thing, he was used to doing things his own way. As in any time of trouble, his hand found its way to his holster and grasped the Rogue's Revolver. "Drippy, head's up!"

Drippy frowned, but didn't stop moving. "What shifty thoughts are ya thinkin'?!"

Swaine said nothing, but closed an eye, took aim, and fired the pistol a foot in front of Drippy. It latched onto the side of the path. "Drippy, grab on to the grapple and hang on tight!"

"I am not a flippin' FISH!"

"Just DO IT!"

Drippy looked behind him, realizing for the first time just how desperate the situation had become. There was only one tile left behind him; in about three seconds, the one he was standing on would be next. "You'd better not be enjoying this, mun!" He grudgingly obeyed, and as he grasped the grappling hook, the tile gave way. Before he could fall too far, he could feel the line go taut and slowly raise him up while he swung towards his partner. Still, it was pretty nerve-wracking for the fairy as he looked down into the black pit below. "Are you sure this thing can hold me?"

A voice from above called back "I've tested it on objects weighing ten pounds and it held. I figure you are all hot air to begin with. Why, have you been hitting the chocolate while we sleep at night?"

"Nah, mun! Just keep goin', will ya?"

Within seconds, Drippy was hauled eye-to-eye with Swaine, though Swaine would not let him touch the ground. He set him on his bony shoulder while he reset his gun. "Don't touch the ground; knowing my luck, I'll get disqualified for having you touch down on my half."

"Yeah, well, now what? I don't think you carrying me is going to help in about…" Drippy paused looking back and doing math, "…twenty seconds."

"No time to explain, you are going to have to hang on again."

"Now what?!"

Swaine stared him dead in the eye. "Drippy, as much as I'd love to do it myself, I need you to get to that switch on your side. We don't have a lot of options here. Just go!"

Drippy couldn't argue, not with Swaine looking so uncharacteristically serious and determined. He hadn't held onto the grappling hook for a second when Swaine raised the heavier Rogue's Revolver, took aim at the switch across the way on Drippy's side, and launched grappling hook and fairy alike. "Get the switch…" he muttered, holding his breath. Five seconds…

The hook didn't travel so far, and Swaine with his years of experience had indeed figured that into the trajectory of the shot. The hook wouldn't attach to anything though, so at the right moment, Drippy let go and landed square on the switch, elongating Swaine's path while the grappling hook plummeted. He was dazed, but Swaine wasted no time in recalling the hook and pressing forward. "Come on Lord High Lord of the Slowpokes! Keep up or we'll have to repeat that technique again!"

They did end up repeating that technique again twice more (though with significantly less dialogue and considerably more fluidity) before they both safely touched down on the opposite side of the chamber. The two gave a hearty sigh of relief in unison before turning to address the robotic-looking bird-like monitor.

"Congratulations, you have passed the first trial. Here is a token to represent your accomplishment." The odd creature procured a shiny talisman, which Swaine gently took and held into the light of the torches. One down.

He tucked the talisman in one of his coat pockets and looked down at Drippy. "I guess you're off the hook now. The next challenge is solo, right?"

"Aye, a test of wits. Though, I hafta admit, ye showed some right quick thinking back there."

He blinked in surprise. That was probably the nicest thing Drippy had ever said to him. He scratched his head modestly. "Well, reaching for the gun is pretty second nature…" He reached forward to push open the doors to the atrium. Drippy's next words stopped him.

"And…if I trusted ya to reel me in and launch me across a bottomless pit with a firearm, I s'pose I'd trust ye with...almost anything." When he looked back at Drippy, Drippy was also scratching his head in embarrassment.

Swaine looked down, feeling a bit guilty. "I'll be straight with you, Drippy, this was a trial where you were supposed to trust your friend. Really, you are the one that passed, not me. I didn't trust you to do the job so I took over and dragged you around like a ragdoll."

Drippy hopped over. "Nah, mun, wrong as always. Ye knew youer partner well enough to know his limitations, helped 'im out, and then trusted 'im to understand youer plan and land on the switch. That's why you pass too. Also, ya have to remember that I WAS a flippin' ragdoll for a good long while, so that sort of thing en't exactly new to me."

This was getting way too sappy for a conversation with Drippy! With a hidden smile, he warned his teammate "I'm going to open this door, so speak now or forever withhold your fluffy comments."

Drippy closed his eyes and nodded with finality. "That's all."

"Good. It was getting weird." He paused. "Thanks though." With a push, the doors opened, revealing a blinding light. Trial 1 complete.


	4. Coping Mechanisms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trial Two: Wits. Downside: You also need brawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second trial is the one trial where Oliver is called on to specifically use a spell of his. I didn't see it as necessary, being that what mattered was getting the statues where they need to go. Easier said than done, I'm sure, so even though Swaine's a sharp guy, he's got his work cut out for him. Being alone and at a slower pace for this trial, I figured it was a good time for him to be more introspective as well. Hang in there!

"Swaine! Mr. Drippy! That was fast! You must have made it on your first try," Oliver cheered as his friends emerged, none the worse for the wear.

"What'd ya think, Ollie-boy, ole sour face and I would fail when it comes to our chemistry?" Drippy quipped, bouncing ahead towards the rest of the group.

"You're such a pal, Drippy," Swaine said sarcastically, shaking his head with a face that matched his partner's description. Despite it all, he seemed calm and in good spirits.

Esther stood to the side next to Oliver, and flashed a thumbs up though she couldn't find any words. Truly, she could hardly believe that the easily provoked Swaine had passed a trial of friendship with his number one offender, much less in such a short amount of time. It seemed completely farfetched, but then again Swaine had surprised them many times in the past.

She was not the only skeptic. "Let's see the talisman, then," Solomon demanded, ignoring the meet and greet.

"Hmph. Don't believe it, do you? Well feast your eyes on this!" He pulled the talisman from his coat pocket and flashed it before the master's eyes.

"Will you be taking the second trial now then, oaf?" No comments of surprise, no jabs, nothing but brusquely moving on. It was exactly what he had expected Solomon to do.

"Exactly. I'll leave the fairy with you." Confidently, he marched to the opposite set of double doors to the right and flung them open. "See you when I finish your little puzzles," he called over his shoulder, saluting the group before heading inside.

"Hmph, he's sure cocky enough about this one!" Esther grumbled, folding her arms.

This time, it was Oliver who appeared worried. "He's smart, he'll solve the puzzles fine. It's the not-having-magic part that I worry about this time."

"Oi, that's right, didn't you say something about using your new Puppet String spell in there?"

"Yeah. It's not necessary, but it will be really hard without it." Oliver bit his lip.

Now it was Esther's turn to change her tune. "Oliver, he's too stubborn to let that get in the way. Don't worry about it, he'll figure something out. He's good for that, anyhow."

The boy brightened up. "You're right Esther. Swaine's got this."

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Four stone statues sat in the middle of the floor. Nearby were four oddly adorned tiles. Clearly, one statue per tile, but the order was crucial. All he was left with was a riddle. After all, this was the test of intelligence.

Honestly, he wasn't so worried about this test. People usually made the mistake of assuming that a guy who looked like a hobo was not the brightest lightbulb. Other people made the mistake of assuming that a guy who couldn't use magic despite having royal tutors must be especially dense. Neither was true, and despite his insecurities, he was aware of that much. He had always done well with his schooling before he left Hamelin, his hobbies included designing and constructing complex mechanical creations, and he learned a lot from his travels. Plus, this test was not timed, nor did he need to work together with anyone else. How hard could it be?

In fact, he didn't need any more time for this one. The answer was really simple, not that there were many possible solutions anyways. Moving towards a dragon statue, he leaned against it to slide it to the correct tile. It hardly moved. Frowning and trying again, he threw all of what little weight he had against it. It moved further, but still he had to give it all he had to slide it into place. When it settled with a resounding click, he stopped, face bright red and panting from the effort. Oh, this was the hard part… Wizards could just use a spell to move these stupid statues and save their backs. Heck, they could get the answer wrong and easily rearrange the statues to try again so long as they conserved their magicka. He didn't have the option, so this was now a test of stamina as well as smarts. Hopefully the next room wouldn't involve statues…

It did no good to think about that now. He still had three more to move. Sighing heavily, he approached the next over-sized piece of the puzzle.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Upon entering the next trial room, Swaine was delighted to see that indeed, there were no statues this time. It didn't take long to see the drawback of not having spells, however. It was a puzzle of perception, and unless he looked at the pieces from way across the room, it would be impossible to tell where the pieces should fit to complete the picture. Without a spell to move the pieces from a distance, he would have to remember where each should go while walking across the room and physically placing them correctly. That would be a bit harder, but…

No, he thought, I just need to be smarter than a wizard. They don't have to recall where pieces go and visualize abstract concepts, they could just move it until it looks good. Hardly a test of wits at all for them! This was, as he had often contemplated, one way of getting by without magic: relying on intelligence. He thought of his brother, the Great Sage Marcassin. By simply drawing some runes in the air with a special stick, he could spring a lock (not that he would do that, good guy that he was); in contrast, when Swaine needed to open a lock, he either had to find the proper tools and learn the art, or design and build something to assist in the process. In the end, his Pickpocket's Pistol seemed an even match for any old Lock Spring spell. With brains, he could accomplish a good many things.

Pausing and holding his chin in contemplation, he studied the pieces and moved them in his mind until they fit. He burned the image in his brain, and when he was satisfied, he hustled over to place them where they needed to go. It was like working with complex parts of machinery; he couldn't always see how everything fit together, he had to organize the pieces in his mind. Being that the pieces were not heavy here, it took him very little time to finish the middle round. In fact, only two trips from the vantage point to the puzzle itself were required, one for the initial placement and one to make minor adjustments. Just as he predicted, he could hear the click of the door to the next room unlocking as he slid the last piece one spot to the right. Heh, come on Solomon, I've tried to build from blueprints more complicated than this!

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

"Oh shit!" he swore when he walked into the final trial room. They had saved the hardest for last. Of course, it involved those damn statues again. His back was already angry at him from the first round, and the thought of moving more of those hideous two-ton pieces of junk made him growl in frustration. Besides that, the puzzle was the most challenging. He had to solve it the first time, no other way. He simply didn't have the strength to move those things around until he got lucky.

And this, this is the other thing I've always had to count on to make up for the lack of magic. That thing was, of course, the sweat. Marcassin, even though as a prince he would never have to, could draw some different runes in the air with his special stick and get brooms to work by themselves while he watched sipping tea. Swaine would have to get the same job done by physically moving the brooms, and his tea would have to wait. Yeah, it was harder, and yeah, it ate up your time to do things yourself. Still, he had always supposed it made you a stronger person as a result. Right at this moment though, he wasn't feeling nearly as cheery about it.

With a sigh, he started by considering which star to place the bird on. If he placed it here, how would the others fall into line? He tried each way, and determined that the bird could only be on the star closest to him. From there, he replayed the position of the other three until all criteria were met. That had to be it. Stretching out his back, he rolled up his sleeves. "You are going DOWN!" he smirked, pointing at the inanimate objects. Just gotta keep thinking of wiping that stupid smug grin from Solomon's face…that's the key…

It did take a long time, longer than before simply because he was getting worn out. After the first two, he had to stop and take a break. He laid down and tried to stretch out his muscles again. One thing he had to admit magic was good for was healing. What he wouldn't give for Oliver to show up with his Healing Touch and work the soreness from his back. "Ugh, you are such an old man…get back on your feet!" he muttered to himself. And take much longer and they'll come looking for you, thinking you're dead from a heart attack or something.

The third statue was put in place, and only one remained. If it didn't work, and if his calculations had been off, well, he was probably done for. The thought of walking out without finishing was unbearable, and he poured everything left into sliding that last statue onto the desired tile. Oh God, please be right, please please please… With a final burst of energy, he shoved it onto the tile. He heard the much-anticipated click of the door unlatching. He had gotten it correct. Now all he had to do was hobble out of there with as much dignity as possible.

Slowly, painfully, he made his way to the door. He met the monitor, who presented him with his second talisman of completion, then leaned against the doors. One last push to open the doors. Stand straight, look remotely energetic. He supposed no one who had ever taken this trial had ever felt this way upon finishing. They were probably all pleased and excited to move onto the third trial, where he was just tired. He had achieved exactly the same thing as them without magic, but it had taken quite a toll. Was this why his father would not allow him to rule Hamelin? Because even if he could get the same jobs done as a sage, he would be worn down in no time? Maybe…maybe all his ideas about the situation being unfair were unfounded...

Shaking his head, he threw open the doors. No more wasting time. There was one more trial to go, and he would have made his point, whatever that was again. Trial 2 complete.


	5. Motivations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swaine needs to get psyched up for the final trial, and also get some help for his sore back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to rush right into round three; Swaine needs a physical and mental break before going up against that four-armed monstrosity, and that seemed fair considering that there is a given break in game during Oliver's Trials. Besides, this is getting at the heart of the story after the set-up. Put the problem into words and find a solution before the pay-off, so to speak. I wonder if I did enough to set this up or if the faltering of the protagonist comes too out-of-the-blue. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> I realize I always give Swaine so many problems to resolve from his difficult past and I haven't done anything very fluffy in a long time, but I think his character is so attractive to me because he is someone who was broken, who didn't find success, and therefore has complicated motivations and interactions.

He entered the atrium, giving it his all to stand straight and ignore the searing pain. When Oliver saw him his face lit up. "Swaine, you did it?" he asked eagerly, rushing over.

"What, you had any doubts?" he smirked, though not unkindly. He stopped where he was so Oliver could come over to him; he didn't want to risk limping.

"I knew the puzzles would be easy, but what about the statues?"

Being reminded of the statues, he made a face. "Not a big deal, just had to move those things the old fashioned way."

"You literally PUSHED them around?" Esther asked incredulously, now also coming over to join them. "You're not exactly solid muscle…"

Swaine frowned. "Excuse me, there's a thing called DETERMINATION. Those stupid statues didn't stand a chance against me!"

"Atta boy, knew you were too stubborn to quit, I did!" Mr. Drippy finally approached, and delivered a good-natured slap on the back. Even the small amount of force from the pint-sized fairy was enough to send a wave of pain shooting down his back, and with an intense grimace and a gasp, he fell to his knees, barely able to prop himself up with his hands.

"Swaine?!" they exclaimed simultaneously, looking stunned.

Oliver was the first to get down to his level. "Are you all right?!"

"Oi, I didn't mean to hit ya that hard!" Drippy piped in, looking concerned.

"I'm…fine…" he growled through gritted teeth. "Must've just hit a pressure point or something…"

"Don't be such a big liar, Swaine!" Esther fumed, squatting down until she was eye-level with him. "You threw out your back pushing those statues, didn't you?"

"Will you just shut up Esther? I told you I'm fine." His eyes darted in the direction of the Sage, who was unapologetically sizing him up from across the room, then back at the girl. His voice was harsh, but when he looked at her, his expression was more pleading. She understood.

"Well, sorry for being so concerned about your well-being. I still say we ought to make sure you are ready to go before your big fight with Bashura in the third round. If you won't come with us, I will call out Gogo to shock you into submission, understood?"

"Hmph. Whatever." He struggled to his feet and let Esther lead him away. She parted through the crowds with little effort until they were swallowed up in the masses and Solomon was out of sight.

"We'll…uh…be right back, Master Solomon. Esther's right, that third trial is pretty rough. We've got to get him in the zone, and, uh, make sure he's ready…" Oliver quickly bowed and scampered off with Drippy shrugging and following in hot pursuit. Master Solomon was of course not fooled for one minute, but everyone had taken off before he could tell them otherwise.

The two found Esther and Swaine in the empty entrance hallway. He was slumped against a wall, hanging his head, while Esther was pulling the harp from her bag. She looked up as Oliver approached. "Good, you're here. My healing song will only do so much. I think your Healing Touch spell will work better on his back."

"Right! We'll get him back to normal in no time."

"What's the point?" their friend's low, cynical voice crept from his throat. "What am I even playing at, anyways?"

This was the last thing any of his companions expected to hear. "Flippin' heck mun, what was that?" Drippy exclaimed. "What happened to the fire and stuff about makin' 'im eat his own words?"

"He's right though." Swaine closed his eyes. "I wanted to prove something, but in the end here I am needing someone else with magic to fix things I just can't."

"What happened to you in that second trial, Swaine?" Esther breathed in disbelief. He was not one to be bested. She knew he had always been stubborn, even while he was still Prince Gascon, and that he would never admit to being wrong. His taking on Master Solomon's challenge was a perfectly natural thing for him to do, defending his pride. This trait of his often drove her crazy, but she also had to admit it was something she had grown fond of. It was wrong to see him moping like this.

"An epiphany!" he snapped, glaring at the floor. "The rules were created for a reason; it's pretentious to think I am capable of doing as good a job as..." He trailed off, unable to vocalize his thoughts.

Oliver looked concerned. "So does this mean…you'll give up finishing the Trials even though there is only one more round left?"

He snorted. "I should probably quit while I'm ahead. I'll end up getting myself killed."

"You do know Bashura, that thing you have to fight, is a mechanical creation, right?"

Swaine looked up in disbelief. "Seriously? The guy who teaches about taming familiars uses a MECHA as his final test?"

"Yep. And if there's anyone who can dismantle a mechanical monster, it is you."

His friend stared at the boy for a moment, then back at the floor again. "Why are you so damn confident? You've been talking like that from the start, and it makes no sense to bet on someone like me."

Oliver grabbed his arm. "But don't you see, Swaine? I passed those trials while being able to use magic to make things easier. You can't use shortcuts, you passed those first two tests the hard way. You know what it is like to struggle, and you know what it is like to push through until you triumph anyway. You have to work hard. You have to be resourceful. That's the kind of person that makes a great leader."

Esther picked up where her friend left off. "Besides, you have limitations, but so does a wizard. If Oliver runs out of magicka, he has to rely on you and me to watch his back the same way you might get hurt and rely on us."

"An' the way I see it, rules are made to be broken. To challenge folks, bring on the best and the like. If anyone's gonna do that, it'd be you, ya flippin' stubborn mule!"

All three of his friends peered into his face, staring and waiting for a response with bated breath. Looking at their anxious faces, he remembered his thoughts when he agreed to take the Trials in the first place. It had been mostly about what to avoid: looking foolish. But what was it FOR? It wasn't to impress Solomon; that guy just pissed him off and his opinion didn't matter in the least. It wasn't to prove he was as good as his brother; Marcassin, one of the few people in the world whose opinion mattered, had told him many times how talented he was. It wasn't to earn his place back as the emperor of Hamelin; he had decided long ago that being the ruler was not a job he wanted because it would involve sacrificing the freedom he had come to love. This whole thing was for HIMSELF, to prove that he could be successful the way he was. With Oliver, Esther and Drippy cheering him on, believing in him, quitting now would be a huge insult. What's more, he would never be able to silence that demon of self-loathing if he didn't try.

And of course, with his friends huddled around, on edge to hear his answer, he knew that even if he tried and couldn't pass the last trial, they would still stand by him. They'd heal his wounds, tell off Master Solomon if he made any rude comments, and hold their heads up high as they left with him.

He sighed, pretending to be vexed. "If I finish, will you stop harping on me?"

Esther knew better. "Nope. But you still should do it anyways."

The man rested his forehead in the palm of his hand. "Fine. I bet the runt plans on having me take that thing down single-handedly, being that you all fought him already. I'll need all the intel on him that you can give me, Oliver. Esther, can I borrow one of your familiars that has healing abilities?"

"Neato! I'll pull out my Wizard's Companion and see what information I gathered last time!" Oliver grinned, beginning to rummage through his bottomless bag.

"I suppose you could borrow Gogo. He has some good thunder spells that will come in handy besides the Healing Rain…"

Drippy tapped his foot impatiently. "An' what about yoers truly?"

Swaine shot him an amused look. "Prepare your best nagging for the stands. If I hear your voice telling me what I should be doing, I'll definitely be more…belligerent."

Drippy saluted. "Aye aye, that I can do. You'll have the best na…er, coaching…anyone could want."

"And one more thing, guys?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you…" he began, but this time turned his gaze to the ceiling. "…Maybe heal my back a bit before you get carried away?"

Esther laughed at his reluctance. "I thought you'd never ask, Mr. Tough Guy. Let's go, Oliver. We can't have him stagger into the arena for his final show-down looking like an old man! Bashura won't take him seriously!"


	6. The Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to fight that monster single-handedly. Oh boy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't say too much this time because I don't want to give anything away. Just know that I hate writing battle scenes! I watched footage of the Bashura battle to make sure I kept things accurate in terms of the monster's design and the attack patterns. I also tried to make the battle as realistic as possible in terms of what Swaine could do by himself. Solomon is such a jerk for making him do this alone! Anyhow, let me know if I should add more detail to the battle. I kind of wanted to get it over with so I could write the last chapter, which is more fun!

A rejuvenated and re-inspired Swaine cut through the crowd with his friends at his back. He had a plan in his head and three familiars at his command, Gogo, Lenny, and Gunther. His Rogue's Revolver was restocked with every bullet at his disposal. All his wounds were healed to perfection, and he carried a few medical supplies in the pockets of his coat in case things got rough during the trial. Reaching the throne of Solomon, he glared upwards, his right hand grasping his firearm. "Let's not keep the good people waiting for the tournament on my account. I assume you would have me do this alone?"

The master leaned his head on his knuckles, smirking. "I see your friends healed you up quite nicely, but yes, that is as much as they are going to be able to do to help you from here on out. Are you sure you can handle this? It would be a shame for you to get crushed, literally…"

"Am I sure? Hell no. But I'm going anyways."

"Whatever you say, oaf. I'll open the portal. Your friends can watch here while you go at it…"

"Oi!" Drippy interrupted unhappily, "How am I supposed to na…er…coach him if I'm over here and all?"

"Sorry, but there isn't exactly audience seating, remember?"

Oliver closed his eyes, trying to remember the arena. Yes, Solomon was right, there was nothing there but a big concrete circle, a few statues that provided the lighting, and the giant form of Bashura in the center. There would be no place for them to cheer him on in person… "I guess you'll just have to figure we'll be watching from over here and rooting for you."

He grunted. "Fair enough. Now, let's go. Open this portal-thingy already!"

"As you wish." With a wave of his hand, he conjured up a door before them. Wasting no time lest he lose his nerve, Swaine marched over, threw open the doors and stepped through.

"You can do it, Swaine!" Oliver called to his retreating form.

"Be careful, okay?" Esther chided, unable to hide her concern.

"When he swipes at ya, make sure ya dodge," Drippy advised.

"I got Oliver. Quit your worrying Esther. Thanks a lot Captain Obvious!" he flashed them a thumbs up without turning around. It was dark, but the further in he walked, the lighter it became as eerie blue torches lit themselves. There in the center, just as Oliver described, was a huge mechanical monster. As he set foot into the ring, its eyes lit up with fire. Then it was true what they said… He'd have to douse that fire to k.o. the thing. But first, to find the weak spot… It creaked to life as he pondered. There was no time to contemplate, he'd just have to try a few things, and he knew where to start.

"Go on, Lenny!" he summoned the Thumblemurr. "I need you to zap him in a few spots to test for the weakness. The backside looks completely reinforced, but I'm guessing those glowing orbs on the chest plate are vulnerable. Give it a go!" Lenny chattered in understanding and leapt into action. The creature was nimble and easily dodged around the slow sword swings with ease. It loosed a few thunder spells at the orbs, and squinting, Swaine could see them begin to crack. Perfect now…

Suddenly, a blast of invisible energy was released sending both Lenny and Swaine tumbling to the ground. Swaine recalled Lenny, but looked up just in time to avoid the swings of Bashura's double swords. "Yeah yeah Drippy, I know, DODGE!" He scrambled to his feet and out of the way of the next stroke, readying his revolver. It didn't matter which bullet he used, the effect would not affect a mechanical creation. However, the force of the bullet might further damage the orbs… When he was sure he was far enough away, he closed one eye, lined up the shot and… Bullseye! The orb nearly shattered. Two more…

Bashura was not pleased by this. As Swaine executed the second shot, the flames seemed to glow brighter. He wasn't paying attention. Just one more… As he pulled the trigger, Bashura unleashed a flurry of sword strokes with a speed previously unseen. It was all Swaine could do to protect his vitals as a sword stroke connected with his body, sending him flying and crashing to the ground half-way across the ring. He couldn't move; the wind was knocked out of him. All he could do was watch the thing close in on him. I just need to summon Gogo to finish this with a strong blast of water…dammit dammit dammit, I can't move… This really is going to be the end of me, isn't it?

Before the sword fell, a powerful blast of light hit Bashura in the back. This wasn't particularly effective, but it did succeed in distracting it. Seconds later, he could feel the pain in his chest diminishing. A healing spell? He didn't stop to analyze it, he simply continued his plan, summoning Gogo. Still on his hands and knees he called his final orders. "Blast the area below his head with all the water power you've got, Gogo! I'm counting on you!" The bird-like familiar squawked in agreement and began waving its staff. A charged ball formed in front of it, but the monster was not facing the right way… "Over here, ugly!" He shot at it to get its attention, and it worked according to plan. Bashura turned right as Gogo launched the magical water-ball dead-center of its target. The crystals protecting this area were already damaged, so they were easily blown away and left the fires within vulnerable to the water. With the fire dying, Bashura shuddered and fell to its knees, then collapsed altogether.

There was silence. No audience to cheer, after all. That and… He hung his head. He hadn't passed the trial; the blast of light, the healing spell…Oliver had stepped in to save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah...I don't want to do clichés. It would be wonderful if Swaine triumphed like your typical hero and walked out of there with smug satisfaction but that would be so predictable. That and, to me, it wouldn't be realistic at all. I mean, putting a single non-wizard against one of the game's bosses? We all know as players that would never work, and I was not interested in somehow cheating to power him up. But don't worry, we still have another chapter to go. After all, these are the FOUR trials of Solomon... Stay tuned ;)


	7. The Fourth Trial of Solomon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion time! I must say, I had this ending in mind when I started working on this story. How else would I have picked such a title? :P Sue me, I have a flair for the poetic. Anyhow, now the title will make sense and we'll have plenty of warm-fuzzies. I wasn't sure how exactly to end it, so any comments on what I ended up doing would be appreciated. Enjoy!

Sighing, he picked himself up and dusted himself off. What did he expect would happen? He had made a pretty good run of it, at least. He looked up to see his friend standing there, looking embarrassed. "Swaine, I'm so sorry, I thought…"

He waved it away. "Don't apologize, Oliver. I'm not partial to being flattened, after all."

"But, maybe, if I wouldn't have jumped in, you could have…"

He walked over to where the boy was standing. He could tell, as always, exactly what was bothering him, and he knew Oliver was second guessing his decision. The young wizard couldn't even look at him, he was so distraught… "Hey, look here," he instructed, placing his hands on his hips as he came to stop in front of the boy. Oliver looked up, biting his lip. Swaine couldn't help it, he chuckled. "I couldn't even move. I'm quite grateful that you patched me up and distracted that monster for me. I would have lost the trial either way, but at least this way I'm alive! And you know," he paused thoughtfully, "in retrospect, I shouldn't have tried to get that third shot in… I should have seen the attack coming and braced myself for it. Serves me right." Still smiling, he grabbed Oliver's shoulder and shook him. "Thanks."

Oliver smiled, but his eyes were still sad despite Swaine's gestures. "I know, but…you wanted this so badly…"

"Oliver, I'm a messed up, mixed up guy who doesn't know what he wants, or even what he needs. Beating the trials would be great for my pride, but I guess," he sighed "after everything, the experience was what I needed, not the medal of honor."

"Does this mean you believe in yourself more? Because that's what I really wanted for you…" He noticed that the boy's eyes were starting to water, and that made a lump form in his throat. Dammit Oliver!  
It was a fair question though. Did he have more confidence in himself at the end of everything? He somehow got Drippy through that first trial, and that took some skill. And his sheer stubbornness helped him through the second, though he always knew he was pretty smart… That third trial? It would feel like a loss if he planned on continuing to live his life alone, because winning alone would therefore be the way the battle needed to go. But…if he didn't want to be alone anymore, was it really losing to have someone to count on for backup?

"You know…I wasn't half bad, all things considered. I'll never match a wizard in battle, but I'm starting to think if I stick with the right crowd, hey, anything's possible. I can at least help and be a bit useful. And that," he bonked Oliver on the head "is the best answer you are going to get out of me. Now, let's go endure that twit on the throne and get it over with."

Oliver brightened up. "Well, you'll always have me and Esther and Drippy. You're right, together, anything's possible! At it sure wouldn't work as well without you!" He grabbed Swaine's wrist and started to drag him back through the portal. "Come on, let's take on your last trial: a showdown with Master Solomon!"

The pair emerged on the other side to find Esther and Drippy looking on anxiously. Thank goodness, they hadn't heard that mushy conversation! Oliver was so good at starting those... Never mind. He scratched his head awkwardly. "Well, I dodged some of them…"

"Crikey mun, two swords and one guy en't exactly sporting!"

He turned to Esther. "Thanks for letting me borrow Gogo. He did a great job, so give him some sweets later, huh?"

Esther nodded. "I'm glad I could help." Her tone was pretty subdued for her.

"So, I see you've already realized the final verdict then, oaf?" At the sound of Solomon's voice, he frowned severely. Taking a deep breath, he turned to address the one he was putting off. "Close, but close doesn't cut it. Looks like Hamelin made the right call when they put Marcassin on the throne." He was expecting something harsh from the know-it-all without a filter, but it still stung. He gritted his teeth but resolved himself to take it and be done.

Oliver was not so inclined. "Why do you keep comparing him to other people? He's nothing like Marcassin, and he can do all kinds of things Marcassin can't do. Marcassin himself would agree!"

"And you know it wasn't fair making him fight all alone. Oliver, Drippy and I all fought together, and I know if that wasn't the case, I for one wouldn't have passed!" Esther interjected, hands on her hips.

Both kids were surprised when he gently laid his hands on their shoulders. "It's fine, guys. Two out of three isn't bad. I'll have to tell Marcassin, he'll get a kick out of this. On that note, I'm going to head outside and take a breather before the tournament starts. I want to be ready to go when our names get called."

"You're going to fight with us?" Esther questioned, surprised.

"I'm feeling charitable right now, okay? Don't question it, or I'll reconsider," he warned, raising an eyebrow.

Esther giggled. "Fine. Come on then, let's go!" She began to drag him away again with Drippy in hot pursuit, and he didn't put up a fight. The ordeal was done, and despite the results, he was strangely satisfied.

That left Oliver standing before a frowning Master Solomon. "You know, I wasn't done talking to that oaf…"

"Yeah, you still hadn't apologized to him."

Solomon scoffed. "I thought that was only if he won?"

Oliver shook his head. "You don't see it, do you? He did win."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Later that evening, as they made camp outside the temple, Esther and Oliver were huddled together working at something. Swaine suspected that it was nothing to do with getting dinner ready, but he let it go. The way his day had been going, he didn't feel like being his normal, critical self. Hopefully he'd be back to that tomorrow… People were going to think he was going soft!

As he finished stacking the firewood, the two approached him, trying hard not to smile. They were horrible at it. "Yes?" he questioned suspiciously.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Well, you may not have realized, but there were actually Four Trials of Solomon…"

He scoffed. "Now you are making stuff up!"

Esther's happy expression quickly morphed to a glare. "Just shut up and listen, will you?"

Oliver ignored them. "The Fourth Trial tests restraint, and is an ongoing syka…cycle…"

"Psychological…" Drippy assisted.

"Right, psychological…ordeal. To pass, you have to resist the urge to punch Master Solomon in the face. The good news is that you showed great patience…"

"And way more maturity than I thought possible…" Esther chimed in, causing Swaine to roll his eyes.

"So, anyways, you passed the Fourth Trial. Therefore, you have passed three trials, and earned all the bragging rights that go with it. Plus, because he wasn't going to give you anything, we made you this…" Oliver pulled something small and shiny out of his pocket. It appeared to be a shard of Shadowglass, but there were designs etched onto it, as well as the name "Swaine" and the words "Trial of Restraint". Glowing, Oliver held it out to his friend.

Swaine was very glad it was getting dark and the fire was not lit, because he did not want them to see how red his face was turning… He cleared his throat, reaching out to take his 'medal'. "I must say, that was definitely the hardest trial, way harder than facing Bashura."

"For someone who went so long without it, you sure showed 'im a thing or two, en't it?" Drippy nodded wisely.

"You were awesome, Swaine. I can't wait til we go back in there and show them what we're made of in the tournament!" Oliver declared enthusiastically.

Esther laughed. "This will sure make for a good story, huh Swaine?"

He looked away, scratching his head. "It's just me, no one needs to hear about it…"

"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm sure Marcassin will want to hear about it," Esther said slyly.

His face became panicked. "I was just joking about that, seriously!"

"Oh come on, he's your brother! He'll love it! Hey Oliver, why don't we teleport to Hamelin right now and…"

"Estheeeeeeer!"

And that is the story of how Swaine, the lost prince Gascon of Hamelin, the magically-ungifted son and brother of Great Sages, and companion to the Pure-Hearted One, overcame the trials all the great wizards faced simply by being himself.


End file.
